On first seeing our baby son. And three cheers for short-term foster parents!

I imagine that most adoptive parents fall in love with the baby they hope to adopt from the first moment they set eyes on that baby.  We certainly did.

We had arranged with the adoption society that we would travel down from Tyneside where we lived, to London.  If we “took to” the baby we would have to sign several legal papers and would then be allowed to take him back with us.  Perhaps a more positive way of saying this was that if we felt we could bond with and love the baby, then we could proceed.  We certainly felt that we bonded immediately.  It was a long journey from Newcastle upon Tyne to London in the 1970s, because there were no really fast trains, so quite an adventure lay ahead of the three of us.

We travelled down by coach the night before, carefully stowing a collapsible carrycot in the luggage section of the coach. We had done as much preparation as possible back home.  An important part of the preparation was to explain everything clearly to our two young daughters.  We hoped to bring back a baby brother for them.  We would send a message via their babysitter if everything had gone to plan and if we were indeed coming home with a baby.

We had been told that the foster mother was one of the most experienced that the adoption society used.  She had been taking the baby up to a Central London hospital for check-ups several times a week, as he had been born many weeks premature.  He was now declared fit to travel and join his new family.

I felt quite nervous as we neared the house, but the sun came out from behind a cloud and everything suddenly looked bright and cheerful, so I began to relax.  Then we saw somebody standing outside her front door. She was holding a tiny bundle wrapped in a shawl and it was baby Sam!

We marvelled at the baby’s tiny curls. He had a lovely little face.  He was eleven weeks old but still very small and still looked premature.  I felt for his young birth mother who had decided that the best thing for his future was to have him adopted.  We knew that we would love him and do our best for him.

The foster mother showed us where two cots lay side by side.  She said that she often had two babies at a time.  However, when a baby had been born prematurely, she just had one, as they needed more careful attention.  She let me hold the baby.  It was a most moving moment to feel him in my arms.  Eventually I handed him over to D.  Baby Sam was very sleepy.  He did not open his eyes for more than a minute, but we both felt that he looked totally adorable.

In another blog I shall describe our journey back home.  At this point however I just want to sing the praise of short-term foster mothers, who fulfil such a vital function in the life of many babies and children in the care system.

Our foster mother said she had already fostered over four hundred babies and was trying to retire, but at the moment, the adoption society wanted her to continue with babies that needed special care.  We were able to visit her some years later, when Sam was about five years old.  She was lovely to him and pleased to meet his big sisters.  Foster parents like that are the salt of the earth.